


Fading

by pinkheichou



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Drummer Connie, Heavy Angst, M/M, Possible Triggering Content, Singer Eren Yeager, Triggers, guitarist Jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 14:59:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkheichou/pseuds/pinkheichou
Summary: Suddenly the air felt heavy and cold around him, depressing, and his previous thought of a junkie was banished forcefully. Even if it was a drugged person, perhaps they needed help. Eren expected everything but at the same time nothing.





	Fading

“You sure you wanna dare go to the public boys’ restroom?” Jean cocked a quirky eyebrow at Eren, one corner of his mouth edged to a grimace. “Fans will tear you apart. There’s a reason why we have a private restroom, only for us.”

Eren halted, his hand already laid on the door handle. He swivelled his head back, leisurely, smirking a reckless smile. “I will handle the fangirls,” after an intentional pause, he added, “and fanboys.” He left Jean, the guitarist of the band, and Connie, the drummer, behind with a snicker.

Their performance tonight had turned out to be a full success, more fans had come than originally expected. Eren, as the lead singer of the band ‘Gigantic Roar’ attracted many fans from age groups that ranged from young to old, due to the band’s philosophy of performing songs of different genres. Each of the three had their own tastes and they were respected and taken inspiration from.

Back to Eren and his “suicide act” of getting flooded over by fans once they’d spot him casually marching to the restrooms, it wasn’t clear to Eren yet that things would come differently. Much differently.

Miraculously, he barely bumped into fans, the hall to the toilets was still and stark. Eren was aware of the very late time, 2:30 a.m.in the morning, but he had expected more people to have stayed so that they could, as usual, follow Eren and his friends outside to their limousine to personally say them goodbye and make half-hearted proposals and utter child wishes. The usual deed, that was.

As he stood by the door, someone else came out. A slightly drunk young adult with dark hair and no shirt. His jeans hung low and he wobbled a bit.

The boy recognised Eren, and grinned as a response. “Oh my god, you’re Eren?” He asked, although his high-pitched manly voice told that he knew. With another raise of tone, he repeated what he just said. “You are Eren! Yo, nice songs you sang today, dude!”

“Thanks, dude.” Eren amicably bumped the fist the dude held out to him. They exchanged a weak nod of their heads, then the male clumsily marched forward and Eren entered the restroom. He took care of his “private business” quickly, but spent a good couple of minutes in front of the mirror, re-styling his hair and fixing his clothes and several wristbands.

A clank caused by something light but metallic cut the air sharply at one point, Eren registered it dubiously. However, not long and he dismissed it, thinking it was probably a junkie shooting a load of heroine in his veins or whatever—and Eren really had no interest in being accidentally associated with recreational drugs in any way.

As he was about to leave, unobtrusely, a noise like a groaning whine sounded off this time. The tone was low and drawn out, almost as if the person who it belonged to was in pain but not really aware of it. Alarmed, Eren whirled around on his heels, a frown wrinkling his forehead. He neared the cabin where he assumed that the noises had emitted from earlier. Suddenly the air felt heavy and cold around him, depressing, and his previous thought of a junkie was banished forcefully. Even if it was a drugged person, perhaps they needed help. Eren expected everything but at the same time nothing.

“Are you all right?” Eren knocked on the door. Whoever it was, it wouldn’t be wrong to check on him. Other than a searing groan, no literal response came; which made Eren worry. “I’m coming in, okay?” The door opened with screeching howls.

Eren might have expected nothing and everything at the same time, but the image of a young male adult on the floor with his left wrist slit open and a bloody razor next to his body hadn’t risen to his mind at all.

The male was a blond-haired boy, framed and formed like a pretty and precious porcelain doll. His eyes fluttered frantically as the pool under his bleeding wrist unfurled circularly.

Eren had to react quickly.

“Hey!” In a matter of a millisecond he had knelt – literally thrown himself – in front of the boy, tilting his face to meet his eyes. “Are you awake? Say something!” Realising how this was useless _and_ a waste of time (because right now every second could be fatal), he pulled his phone from his pants and dialed the number of the ambulance. His other hand had subconsciously wandered to the wound, pressing on it, hoping that it could lower the time until death would come and get him. He didn’t break eye contact with the brittle boy, couldn’t do it. His blood pressure had raised to undimensional expansions and he wished there would be a way to transfer the excess of blood his heart pumped through his system to the blond’s body. He mustn’t die.

“I—” the other croaked out, lips dry, eyes unfocused and yet he must have sensed Eren’s presence and the current situation. “I hadn't—wanted—to d—do it here. But my f—, friends dragged me to the concert, so…” Eren couldn’t believe the boy had the nerve to huff weakly, “S-So I had to change locations for my plan.”

Eren was appalled. “What—” But then a woman finally answered his call, and Eren immediately rendered the necessary information. As if his shock was overlayed by his inner desire to _save this boy’s life by all means_. The woman asked whether the boy was still conscious.

“Barely. He could close his eyes any second.” If it wasn’t for the hand on the bleeding wrist, he’d shake the boy’s head to keep him awake.

“I—…” the blond said hoarsely, “I was tired of life.”

Eren barely caught the last snippets of what the other had said before the woman’s voice said into the phone, “If it is possible for you, alleviate the bleeding by tightening a band or similar under the cut, raise his hand then, and keep him conscious for as long as you can. The ambulance is notified and on their way.”

Since Eren didn’t need to hear more, it was then that he dropped his phone and removed his belt in two swift motions, slinging it around the boy’s arm as was told to him. He was breathing hard with how wrenched he felt just by seeing the blond young adult like that; too *tired of life* to be wanting to continue living. Hectically but precisely did Eren do his job and pressed the wrist against the wall above the blond’s head.

Now that he didn’t have to hold a phone, he raised it to the boy’s head and shook it lightly. “Hey. You.” He had to think. Quickly. What to do. What to say. Anything. Just anything! The blond did acknowledge Eren’s call and his eyes focused on his. A microscopic spark of relief streaked over Eren’s face. At least he wasn’t dead… _yet_.

Eren’s expression softened very slightly. He breathed airily, “What’s your name?” _Anything to keep him conscious._ To keep him in the world of living.

The boy whispered, “Armin.”

“Armin,” Eren repeated, the name melting on his tongue. Not in a pleasant way, so he thought, because he was reminded once again that Armin could melt away _towards death_ just as fast. “Hey, Armin, stay awake, okay? You can’t die yet.” Eren gripped and shook Armin’s head as if it was his own child dying. His fingers trembled under the pure and blissful touch of Armin’s skin. “Don’t die yet, please. Hang in there, the ambulance will be here soon.”

Armin hung his head, as if to tell Eren that this wasn’t what he wanted. And he really meant it that way. “I don’t want to live…” Armin’s head fell farther to the side and Eren switched his face back forward, desperate but also hopeful and ludicrously willing to do anything to save this boy. He had seen Armin for the first time less than two minutes ago, however, these few minutes had been enough, to slither the feeling into Eren that he knew Armin much longer.

He couldn’t help it when he pressed Armin’s wrist firmer against the wall; he couldn’t help it when his other hand enclosed Armin’s neck from behind to reach his other cheek and stir him to semi-consciousness in his arm. He hustled Armin closer to him, as though that vicinity, Eren’s vulnerable closeness to him, could change Armin’s physical and mental state.

He couldn’t help it when, in the moment of agony, Eren declared with ardency,

“Don’t die, please, Armin, don’t die. If you use the strength you’ve left to keep yourself conscious until the ambulance arrives, I will stay with you and become your reason to live. I _promise you_ I will make your life worth living, but _please_ don’t die!”

Armin’s eyes were closing, minutely his pupils faded to a pale blue.

Blue eyes.

“Armin!”

Eren didn’t realise until then how beautiful Armin’s eyes were. Everything. Literally everything about Armin seemed so perfect. Someone as perfect as him shouldn’t die yet. Eren cried Armin’s name again. He didn’t hear the paramedic coming into the restroom.

All he did was thinking about those beautiful blue eyes and his promise and his prayer to God and that he wanted to dedicate his next song to Armin.

Two minutes that had changed his and Armin’s life forever.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is [pinkheichou](http://www.pinkheichou.tumblr.com)


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